*Somebody Out There Loves Me*
by ducky-doll
Summary: *FINISHED!*A Hermione Granger/Oliver Wood Love story. Both of them are looking for love but neither one has found it. Hermione is still at school and sees Oliver as nothing but a stuck-up celebrity but Oliver wants to win Hermione over! *Plz R/R!!!*
1. Chapter One

'SOMEBODY OUT THERE LOVES ME'  
  
  
Hermione Granger rolled lazily over on her bed as the breeze blew in from outside.   
  
"Hmm..." she sighed as a new History of Magic book fell over the soft doona and landed with a huge 'thud' on the floor.  
  
She slowly stood up and walked over to the open window, the lace curtains blowing in her face. Unmuddling herself, she carefully climbed out of the window and sat on the roof of her house, her arms around her legs to protect from the cold air.  
  
The wind seemed so crisp and fresh and stung her throat as she breathed in but she loved it. The stars sparkled in the sky and tilting her head on her shoulder, Hermione made a wish.   
  
"I wish somebody out there loved me," she whispered before standing up and heading back inside her bedroom before her parents checked to make sure she was in bed.  
  
  
The next morning Hermione woke up to find herself still wearing the clothes from last night. She had fallen asleep in practically seconds when she'd come back inside and hadn't woken up till quarter past eight. Three quarters of an hour longer than usual. Sleepily, she made her way down the stairs to greet her family who were bustling away in the kitchen.  
  
"Morning Mum," she said, entering the kitchen to find her mum making pancakes over the stove and her father reading the Sunday paper.  
  
"Morning honey," they both chimed and she sat down to a delicious breakfast.  
  
"Not long until you go back to school eh?" remarked her father, pushing his round glasses back up as they had been slowly falling down his nose.  
  
"Mmmm," Hermione mumbled as a reply.  
  
Before anyone could say anything else however, an owl came sweeping through the open kitchen window and delivered a neatly tied package in Hermione's lap.  
  
No one had really acted surprised as they were finally used to the strange, mysterious things that happened quite frequently with Hermione being a witch. Her family even sort of enjoyed the quirkiness.  
  
"Ah, the Daily Prophet!" exclaimed Hermione as she untied the string to reveal a thick newspaper with a owl claw marks on the outside.   
  
"May I read that honey after you?" asked her father who was beginning to take a strong interest in his daughter's hobbies.  
  
Hermione nodded in reply and then opened up the large pages revealing a big black heading, 'QUIDDITCH CUP CANCELLED!'  
  
"Ooh, Harry and Ron won't be too happy about that," muttered Hermione as she skipped a few pages to her favourite section 'WHAT'S HAPPENING IN THE WORLD'. A few months ago Hermione had won a competition and had a piece of her work published in this section. Of course it had had to have been cut down a little from the seventeen parchments it's original state had been but never the less, Hermione was extremely proud of it. Every now and then she'd have a little mention in the paper about being a good Hogwarts student and they'd even done a report on the birthday party Hermione had held for Crookshanks in her second year.  
  
"Anything interesting?" asked her mum as she took away Hermione's finished breakfast dishes.   
  
But Hermione didn't reply. Her mind had been completely swept away. For the first time Hermione was in LOVE! 


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO  
  
  
Oliver Wood rolled over on the hammock that was strung around two fake palmtrees and tried to smile for the camera. It was difficult though when he went round and round in circles and landed flat on his stomach on the floor.   
  
"Ouch," someone muttered in the room. "Someone help him up."  
  
That was followed by fits of giggles as the women helpers all tried to decide who was going to help the good looking guy up. In the end they began to argue leaving Oliver to grunt and get up himself.  
  
"Urgh, look now there is a graze on his stomach, make up!" shouted the man.  
  
Oliver sighed and tried not to blush as a short, brunette carefully applied powder to his stomach to get rid of the marks.  
  
This whole photo shoot was beginning to annoy him. How could anyone ever spend their whole lives being prodded and told how to look. All he wanted to do was get back out and play Quidditch. Quidditch was muddy and dirty. Quidditch was anything but glamorous. What was the point of this photo shoot anyway?  
  
This was the question he had posed to the Puddlemere United manager, Tom, a day earlier.   
  
He'd been answered with, "You got to have publicity boy. Women love you. They got to have some sort of merchandise. Coffee mugs, calenders, the whole bit!" When Oliver had told him he didn't want to on coffee mugs and calenders the manager had just laughed and told him to get his good looking face back into the showers.  
  
So now here he was. Sitting in a hammock in front of an illusion of a tropical island. Of course it wasn't really an island but looked like one thanks to the photographer's excellent use of magic. But under all of these lights and covered in some sort of gooey make-up, Oliver wished he WAS on a tropical island.  
  
"Wonderful, fantastic!" the photographer was saying from behind the camera. Oliver tried to look happy but it was getting harder. All of the giggling women standing around wasn't helping. But finally after another fifteen minutes of prodding, he was allowed to leave the studio and go back to the Puddlemere Head Quarters.  
  
  
Oliver was greeted by his manager, Tom, when he got back. "How'd it go boy?" he asked, trying not to laugh at the make up that was running off Oliver's face in beads of perspiration.  
  
Oliver grunted and headed straight to the showers where he spent an hour, furiously washing the make-up off and scrubbing every inch of his body so hard that he was left with red marks. He didn't care though. He wasn't no model. He was a rough and tough Quidditch player.   
  
  
As Oliver was getting his bag, ready to head home that afternoon, Tom entered the Locker room, about to deliver more bad news.  
  
"You're going to an interview tomorrow for a women's magazine. It's booked for eleven, someone will pick you up at ten thirty. Got it?"  
  
Without saying a word, Oliver slammed the locker door and left the room behind him.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: My Stats bar tells me that I am in a number of people's 'faves' sections and I know this is going to sound really, really, vain but I was wondering who added me. Because I want to thank them! I'm dying of curiosity. So if you did add me, thanks! :o) 


	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE  
  
  
Oliver Wood was the object of every girl's affection when Hermione went back to school two days later. Girls were walking around in groups, swooning his name. They spent hours doodling his name on their assignments and someone had even gone to such lengths as to make copies of 'THAT photo' and stuck them on the back of the toilet doors.  
  
"This is ridiculous," said Ron to Harry and Hermione as they walked to their common room one day.  
  
"You're just jealous," retorted Hermione, although she was almost over her 'Oliver Phase' (Unlike most girls.)  
  
"Oh yeah?" said Ron. "Who was the one who scribbled O.W on your Potions papers and got thirty house points taken away by Snape?"   
  
"Yeah well you're just jealous that it wasn't R.W that all the girls are talking about!" Hermione replied, turning red.  
  
"Calm down guys," Harry interrupted, acting the peace-keeper he always seemed to end up being.  
  
Ron stuck his tongue out quickly when Harry wasn't looking and Hermione rolled her eyes as they entered the common room through the Fat Lady portrait (password, 'Egg shells')  
  
The first thing any of them heard when they were safely inside was the screams of every single female in the room.  
  
"Great Wizards," said Harry to Ron and Hermione. "What on earth is going on?"  
  
  
At first they had thought the screams were screams of pain or being scared but then they realised they were screams of joy. Parvati was jumping up down waving a photo of Oliver Wood around and Lavender was running on the spot, squealing, her pigtails flying around. Hermione cleared her throat and made the sunshine coming in to the castle reflect on her 'Head Girl' badge, grabbing everyone's attention.  
  
The room was silent for a second. But then everyone went crazy again. Harry went over to Parvati and grabbed her by the sleeve of her robes, nearly tugging them off her. "What on earth is happening?" he yelled over the noise.  
  
"Puddlemere!" she replied, her eyes gleaming. "Oliver is coming to Hogwarts!!!" 


	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR  
  
  
"Okay darling, tell me... how does it feel to be something of a sex symbol to all of those thousands of teenage witches out there?" asked the reporter from 'It's a Witchy World' magazine.  
  
"Uhh..." Oliver looked down at his hands and tried not to stare at the woman's amazingly pointy nose.  
  
"Yes?" she encouraged, her pen ready to write and her eyes looking eagerly at him with happiness. It wasn't hard to miss that she was a big fan. The fact she'd hounded him as soon as he had entered the room and begged for an autograph sort of showed this.  
  
"Uhh, I don't know. I don't look at myself as a sex symbol. I like Quidditch and flying," he replied uneasily, still avoiding that IMPECCABLY pointy nose. Yeah, which is where I'd rather be right now, Oliver thought to himself. Flying on a broomstick. Not in here!  
  
The reporter looked like she was going to faint. "Oh so, so, so modest!" she gushed dreamily. Oliver was saved from any further torment when Tom appeared in the room as if he had been reading Oliver's mind.  
  
"Okay that's enough," Tom said, clapping his hands together.   
  
The pointy-nosed reporter looked horrified for a moment but was quickly ushered out the door by Tom who looked at Oliver with gleaming eyes.  
  
"Guess what my friend," he said, smile widening.  
  
"What?" asked Oliver.  
  
"We're going to Hogwarts! And the old fashioned way."  
  
  
The steam train to Hogwarts left from Platform 9 3/4 early the next morning. It brought back many fond memories for Oliver who had spent his childhood painstakingly leading the Gryffindor Quidditch Team before Puddlemere picked him up for the reserve team (and eventually main team) as soon as he'd finished there. He remembered the team quite vividly and why he'd loved each individual member for different qualities.  
  
There had been Alicia Spinnet, one of the Chasers. She'd been a wonderful player but most of all a wonderful friend to him and had always calmed him down when he got a little too... enthusiastic.  
  
Katie Bell had also been a Chaser and one of the best he'd seen. But she too was more than just a player. She was a sensitive and caring girl who fixed any injuries that were often aquired during practise matches.  
  
Angelina Johnson had been the third Chaser and was the most pumped up, energetic, outgoing and crazy people Oliver had ever known. She'd pepped up the team whenever they'd had enough of Oliver but always made everyone feel wanted and needed.  
  
And who could ever forget the Weasley Twins? Not even someone who'd had a memory charm put on them. They were the hilarious pranksters who'd managed to get him on more than one occasion and caused fits of laughter from everyone... including Oliver himself.  
  
Finally there was Harry Potter. The boy who lived. The boy who made Oliver's dreams of winning the Hogwarts Cup come true. Harry was special and was one of the reasons Oliver was keen to revisit Hogwarts. Harry was now a Seventh Year and there was no doubt in Oliver's mind that he was also Head Boy. And that bushy-haired friend of his... what was her name? Hermoin or something was probably the Head Girl.  
  
Oliver's daydreams were called to a hault however when a loud toot sounded from the front of the train and they departed the station, on their way to Hogwarts! 


	5. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE  
  
  
Hermione stared at the walls of the Great Hall, not particularly looking at anything. Ever since the announcement that Oliver Wood would be returning to Hogwarts for a motivational talk everyone had been going crazy- even the boys who all looked up to Wood as if he was something of a hero.  
  
But unlike everyone else, the love-fever had worn off Hermione. She wasn't THAT excited about the talk, they'd had one of the Weird Sisters talk to them the previous year but she was looking forward to the break in their hectic schedule. As Head Students, her and Harry had had the most incredibly busy schedule and it was beginning to tire her out. She never thought she'd say it but she was sick of studying!  
  
"Shhhh, shhhhh!" someone hushed over the top of all of the chatter. "He's coming, he's coming!"  
  
And then there he was. Oliver Wood. In the flesh.  
  
The Hall fell silent and Oliver stood at the front of the Hall nervously shifting his weight from side to side. He looked around at all of the students (there sure were a lot of them) and tried to think of something intelligent to say. "Hi," he squeaked.  
  
But he didn't need to be intelligent for he had captured the hearts of every single person seated. Even Professor McGonagall found herself thinking how proud she was that this handsome man had been her student once. Hermione sat back in her seat and stared into his big brown eyes. She wished they were staring back into hers but this was something unrealistic. Still though she dreamt of how it would be just so wonderful to have one dance with him. One slow dance. Then she snapped out of it and scowled herself. What were you thinking? she thought crossly.  
  
Professor Dumbledore interrupted the silence then by announcing that, "each Year Level will each get a motivational speech from Mr. Wood here. It will be starting with the First Years tomorrow and then we'll continue with the remaing years each consecutive day until the Seventh years next week." This was followed with a big 'YES!' from the First Years and a miserable sigh from the Sevenths. Oliver blushed furiously and stared absently out of the windows, hoping no one was watching him although he was aware that EVERYONE was.  
  
"That'd be right," said Ron in Hermione's ear. "Seventh Years last. Always last. Always, always, always."  
  
"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione.   
  
"Ooh, someone's got a crush!" Ron replied, cheesily.  
  
"I do NOT have a crush. I refuse to allow myself to be like these airy-fairy girls surrounding us. Oliver may be good looking but I bet all of this fame has turned him into a big-headed, selfish and rude... celebrity!"  
  
"That's not true," butted in Harry. "Wood was too down to earth to ever become big-headed."  
  
"Yeah, well we'll see," retorted Hermione. "Now if you'll excuse me," she said, leaving the table. "I have some studying to do. I'll be in the library!"  
  
"Whoah," muttered Ron as Hermione's figure left the Great Hall. "Someone's a little grumpy."  
  
  
Author's Note: Yes I know my chapters are always so short. I guess that's what happens when one writes stories through letters. They forget how to make chapters long. Anyway, I've already completed the next six or so chapters so I can't make any of them longer however from now on I'll try to make them heaps long okay? I guess one good thing is that it means they're quick to read. 


	6. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX  
  
  
Oliver had honestly never been more nervous in his life. He had done motivational talks before, he'd done them in front of hundreds of people, but this was different. This was on home ground, with kids he'd known, kids he'd gone to school with!  
  
He was led out of the Great Hall by Dumbledore and taken to a guest chamber somewhere on the second floor. It was strange how Oliver hadn't actually been back here at Hogwarts for four years yet he still remembered exactly where everything was. As soon as the Hall doors had closed behind them they heard a huge cheer go up in the room. Dumbledore chuckled to himself before gesturing for Oliver to follow him.  
  
"They're very excited to see you, Mr. Wood," he began saying as they swished through the old corridors.  
  
"Yes," replied Oliver. "I got that feeling."  
  
"You're something of an idol to them. They think if someone from Hogwarts can become so huge and famous that anything is possible."  
  
"Yes," replied Oliver.  
  
They walked on in silence for a minute after that, Oliver trying to think of something to say and Dumbledore admiring the grounding of his past pupil.  
  
"So tell me Oliver, do you mind staying for the week?" he asked.  
  
"Not at all," he answered.   
  
"That's good. I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do with some of the more senior students."  
  
"Yes I do actually. Tell me if you could, Professor... how is Harry?" Oliver asked.  
  
"Harry Potter... that boy becomes stronger and stronger each day Oliver. He is a boy of such courage and bravery. I still find it a challenge remembering that he is only seventeen some of the time," Dumbledore said grandly. "Ah here we are," he added, opening the door to a large room.  
  
Oliver stepped inside and was nearly blown away by the room, or more accurately, rooms.  
  
It was something resembling 5 star accomodation, a big, comfortable looking bed in one corner, a little dining area fit for a king with velvet chairs, large windows that led out onto what looked like a balcony with vines creeping around the barriers. As Oliver stared on, awestruck, Dumbledore bid his farewell and left him to rest. The door closed softly behind and Oliver wandered around still taking everything in.  
  
The bathroom was off the main bed area and looked like one of the Prefects bathrooms. He knew this because in his sixth year he'd snuck in at midnight and taken a long, enjoyable bath after a rough Quidditch game. He couldn't resist turning on the different taps just to check if streams of rainbow came flowing out and sure enough they did.   
  
It was getting dark outside, the journey to Hogwarts had been longer than he'd remembered and he changed clothes and flopped on top of the beautiful, old bed. It wasn't until he noticed how silent it was when he realised how LONELY he was. Tom was off at Diagon Alley no doubt trying to find suitable gifts for his girlfriend in Ireland and now Oliver was positively alone.   
  
Sitting up slowly, he went and opened up the big window panes and slid out onto the small balcony.  
  
The full moon was above him and sitting on the cold concrete, Oliver thought about his life. How much he loved Quidditch, how much he loved the crowds, the big games, the noise and adrenalin that pumped through his veins each match. Then he thought about how he was sitting there all alone. No one else around. No one who wanted to hear from him or just sit with him in the silence and enjoy the moment.  
  
A black bird which had been perched on the concrete balcony fence, flew off into the distance until Oliver couldn't even see it anymore.  
  
He looked up at the stars and quietly and softly made a wish. "I wish somebody out there loved me," he said before rising to his feet again and heading back indoors for a nice, well deserved rest.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Oh my FUCKING God, I just saw The Winter Guest and whooooo, did Sean just blow me away or what? Sorry about the language but it's in my head now cos Sean's character Tom swore a lot in it. YIKES! Was he good or what? Shit, shit, shit... I'm walking around with a Scottish accent now LoL 


	7. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
  
Hermione tried to shut out the noise that seemed to follow her around the hallways of Hogwarts non stop that evening. Everywhere she went people were talking about him. He was here. He was somewhere in the school at this very second, probably pre-signing photographs Hermione thought to herself as she tried to concentrate on the game of Wizards Chess she was having with Ron in the common room.  
  
"Herms, I always win but tonight I'm winning even MORE easily," Ron said after removing one of Hermione's Knights from the board.  
  
"What?" Hermione asked, still trying to shut out the chatter.  
  
"Urgh, don't worry," Ron muttered under his breath as he waited for her to make a move.  
  
"I'm tired," said Hermione after another minute of thinking (about something so obviously not Chess). "Can we finish this tomorrow?"  
  
"Uh.. I guess."  
  
"Thanks, sleep well," she said and quickly headed up to the Girls' Dormitory.  
  
When she arrived at the top of the stairs she couldn't help but overhear Parvati and Lavender, the gossip queens of Hogwarts having a little discussion. Creeping silently around the corner, careful not to step on that one annoyingly creaky floorboard, Hermione tried to hear what they were saying.  
  
"She is just so... so obviously in love with Harry!" she could hear Lavender say with a hint of bitchiness in her tone.  
  
"I know! She prances around with Ron and Harry all day long stealing, well Harry, not Ron, away from all of the other girls. We don't bite but honestly, does she think she can keep him to herself forever?" Parvati replied, equally as snooty.  
  
"And they're like 'Oh Hermione, will you help me with my homework?' or 'Hermione, do you know the answer to this question?'. Doesn't she understand they don't LIKE her. Her hair is just so bushy that it must block out any brain cells related to being human."  
  
At that very moment, Hermione burst into the room and faced them.  
  
"Uhh hello Hermione," Parvati said with a bright and fake happy smile on her face.   
  
"Yeah er, Hi!" added Lavender with guilt written across her.  
  
"Hi," replied Hermione. "I couldn't help but catch onto the last few words of your conversation. May I ask who were you talking about?"  
  
"Umm..." thought Parvati quickly. "Crabbe. We were just saying how she always follows around Har-DRAco and Goyle. I mean HE, not she."  
  
"Oh I see," replied Hermione, walking over to her bed. "Good night then," she said softly.  
  
"Uh good night Hermione!" Lavender and Parvati chirped before heading downstairs to the common room.  
  
Little did they know that Hermione spent most of that night awake, trying to stop the tears that were brimming in her eyes because every part of her was positive that what the girls had been saying was true.  
  
  
Author's Note: Thanks for the nice reviews, please check out my other fics. If you're big on Oliver/Herm fics then check out 'Letters From Hogwarts' and it's sequel 'Wanna Be Where You Are'- both are completed and I'm dying for one of them to hit the 100 review mark. Come on peeps, WBWYA is at 91!!!   
  
Author's Note 2: I just posted up a new fic, it's actually a play featuring a love triangle between Harry, Hermione and Oliver. It's full of original songs and romantic fluff and drama so please check it out and tell me what you think. 


	8. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT  
  
  
Oliver cleared his throat. The First Years stared back at him expectantly waiting for him to begin talking.   
  
"Hi my name's Oliver Wood," he began.   
  
They were seated in the library so it was more personal and comfortable for both the students and Oliver. They were sitting on the floor, their tiny eyes staring back into his and he was sitting in a chair almost as if he was about to read them a story.  
  
"Hi Oliver!" they all responded together like a choir which made Oliver feel more relaxed straight away. It made him remember he wasn't giving a motivational talk for a panel of world wide representatives but merely for a group of First Year students who all thought he was invincible anyway!  
  
He chuckled a little and then kept talking. "I am the Keeper for the Puddlemere United side in Quidditch. I'm not here to tell you the rules of Quidditch, although I'd love to, I'm here to tell you why being involved in sport is good for you. Whether you play for an international league or simply the local club being active is important to the development of every single person in the room. Even you!" he added gesturing towards a shy little redhead towards the back of the room. She turned red and giggled and then looked back at Oliver starstruck.  
  
Oliver was about to continue when a loud thud was heard from behind one of the book shelves.  
  
An older looking student came running out of that section and was about to dart right out of the library when they paused and realised they were in the middle of one of Oliver's talks.  
  
"Uh... I'm so sorry!" gasped Hermione, peering out from behind the hair that was in her face, covering her watery and red eyes.   
  
"Uh don't worry," replied Oliver, aware that all of the First Years were watching this scenario with great interest. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine, just fine," she answered and ran out of the library faster than ever before, positively mortified as Oliver continued his talk. 


	9. Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE  
  
  
It wasn't until much later that day that Oliver ran into the teary-eyed girl again. And when I say 'ran' I mean RAN. They collided just under the Fat Lady portrait as Oliver was going to try and find Harry and visit the old Gryffindor area and the girl was just coming out.  
  
"Arghhhh!" she cried as they bumped into each other. A pile of books went flying and both of them ended up on the floor, Oliver with a huge grin on his face and her with tears brimming in her red eyes.  
  
"Oh I'm so sorry!" laughed Oliver as he helped her up and started collecting the books that were scattered at their feet.  
  
"That's okay... Oh, it's you," she replied.  
  
"Have we-" Oliver stopped short. "Hermione!" he gasped, more surprised than ever.  
  
"Hi Oliver," she said crossly. "I have to go now. Bye." With that, she snatched her books out of Oliver's arms and stormed off.  
  
He stood there flabbergasted for a second before gathering his senses and entering the common room.  
  
Harry was the first person he spotted once he'd managed to get past the Fat Lady who had instantly recognised the handsome star and insisted he stay for a "quick" chat.  
  
"Potter, my old friend!" he greeted Harry with a manly pat on the back.  
  
"Wood, it's so good to see you!" replied Harry who was equally as happy to see Wood as he was to see Potter.  
  
Oliver had a million questions he wanted to ask him but all of them seemed to be about... Hermione. He held his tongue though and decided to settle and talk the talk that he was meant to. They sat down with Ron in front of the fire place and chatted about Quidditch, classes and finally after Oliver could barely stand it any longer... girls.  
  
"So either of you had any serious girlfriends?" he asked.  
  
"Nope," Ron shook his head.  
  
"Although," interrupted Harry. "Ron did have a serious CRUSH on a certain Ravenclaw who goes by the name of Padma Parkinson."  
  
This was followed by a series of immature wolf-whistles and shouts on Oliver's part while Ron turned a deep shade of maroon.  
  
"That was ages ago," he repeated over and over again.  
  
When the laughter died down Oliver turned his question to Harry. "And you?"  
  
"No one really," was his answer which made Oliver feel very satisfied. Get a hold on yourself, he thought. What's up with you? Did you expect him to be with Hermione or something? Why am I thinking about Hermione again? I don't even know her!  
  
"What about you?" Ron was saying as Oliver snapped back to reality.  
  
"Umm... no one," Oliver said quickly.   
  
There was an uncomfortable silence before they all started talking at once.  
  
"So how's Puddlemere?"  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"I better be heading off now."  
  
After another round of laughter Oliver bid his old friends farewell and left the Gryffindor Tower in search of someone. One thing he'd learnt with age and experience was that if you wanted to do or say something then you had to do it before it was too late. 


	10. Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN  
  
  
Oliver found Hermione in the library, the first place he thought he might try.  
  
"Hermione!" he said, trying to act like it was a coincidence that he'd seen her in there.  
  
"What do you want?" she snapped, not the greeting Oliver had been expecting.  
  
"Uh.. just to say hi, I guess... maybe... I suppose... kind of," he trailed off, staring at the floor.  
  
"Yeah well now you have, could you please say goodbye?" Hermione replied, not even looking up from her book on Herbology. She knew if she did look at him, she'd fall in love with his face again.  
  
"Oh," Oliver tried not to sound too disappointed. Why was he disappointed anyway? It wasn't like he even KNEW this girl. He never had when they were at Hogwarts together so what was different now?  
  
"Could you please go away?" Hermione raised her voice and a few other people in the library starting looking at them.  
  
"Okay... I'll see you later then?" said Oliver, retreating from the table and not too sure what he'd done wrong.  
  
"Unfortunately," muttered Hermione before going back to her book.  
  
  
As soon as Oliver was out of the library she let out a little sob. It seemed all she had been doing lately was crying. Why was she letting him get to her though? She wasn't popular or pretty or cool. She wasn't like Parvati. She was just little smart Hermione so why was Oliver interested in talking to HER?  
  
"Get real," she mumbled to herself, closing the cover of the book. "Oliver Wood is just a rude, selfish, up himself celebrity."  
  
And it was this very up himself celebrity that Hermione could not stop thinking about.   
  
  
Meanwhile, Oliver returned to his guest room in a bit of a depressed mood. He was all alone again, not even being able to chat with Harry and friends again had made him feel 100% better. It was like each day he grew into an even worse state.   
  
"Ahh Snow White," he said, flopping on his bed and noticing his pet owl sitting on the window sill. "What have we got here?" he thought outloud as he gave Snow White a quick pat and then carefully unwrapped the note that she'd been holding.  
  
'Oliver, We must meet, I am sorry for acting so cold before! Outside the Fat Lady portrait tonight at 11, I'll meet you there!'  
  
  
Author's Note: I'm sorry, I won't be able to update for a little while because I am really, really busy and have almost run out of pre-written chapters lol. Um... please check out http://www.geocities.com/hpfanficawards and start nominating, the site will up and running probably tonight or tomorrow depending on how fast I get to it. Thanks for all the great reviews and remember to check out all my other fics (heaps of Hermione/Oliver) I am constantly posting more. Oh and guess what, I am doing a Harry Potter oral assessment for my Year 11 English Lit class lol. I can't wait! Thanks again! 


	11. Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN  
  
  
The walk was brisk and cold as Oliver made his way through the hallway. It was five to eleven now meaning the person would probably be waiting by now. But who was it?   
  
It was strange how eerie the castle walls seemed at night time. During the day they were warm and alive but now Oliver felt more lonely than ever before and a little part of him hoped that the letter writer had been Hermione yet he still wondered to himself 'why?'  
  
As he passed one of the silver knights Oliver nearly had a heart attack. He could see Snape coming around the corner and ducked behind a cupboard. Then he realised how stupid he was being. He was no longer a student, there were no night time rules any more. Chuckling to himself, he stood up straight and determined to walk right past Snape.  
  
"Oliver Wood..." Snape muttered to himself as he saw the boy coming towards him.  
  
"Snape," Oliver nodded his head, maturely acknowledging the nasty professor.  
  
"Wood," Snape nodded his head in return and continued on his way, looking for naughty little boys and girls obviously.  
  
Oliver nervously approached the Fat Lady portrait and stood there, his hands behind his back, waiting. There wasn't a sign of any living soul, not even any mischievous students who fancied a late night walk.  
  
"Hello darl," greeted the portrait. Oliver tried to think of a reason why he was standing there and prayed to the Great Wizards above that the Fat Lady didn't want to have a never ending conversation again.  
  
"Hi," he said shortly.  
  
"She's over there," the Fat Lady said, boredly, pointing towards a strategically placed trophy cabinet. "Snape walked past so she ducked and hid."  
  
"Ah," Oliver replied. "Um... would you mind telling me who she is?" His heart was racing by now.  
  
"Nu-uh," the portrait tut-tutted. "Love to dear but that's not my place. Just walk on up and find out."  
  
Every bit of Oliver wanted to say bye to the Fat Lady and run back to his guest room but for some reason he didn't. Perhaps it was because he was dying for it to be Hermione. He began smiling as he worked out in his head what he would say when he walked over. The angle he'd tilt his head, the tone of voice, the words that would come out of his mouth.   
  
"Well?" interrupted the Fat Lady. "Get moving!"  
  
So Oliver did get moving. He strode confidently over to the trophy cabinet and a certain Gryffindor came jumping out from behind, startling him.  
  
"OLIVER!" she cried, a big happy grin evident on her face.  
  
He stood there in shock, unable to move. It wasn't Hermione at all. Infact, he didn't even know this girl's name! What on earth was going on? How did this girl know which owl was his? How did she send the note with Snow White?   
  
"Uhh....hi," he said slowly.  
  
"Hi!" she cried, then hushed herself so she didn't wake up the whole castle. "Hi," she repeated a bit quieter. "My name's Lavender Brown!"  
  
He recognised the name and realised it was one of the other seventh year girls. Perhaps one of Hermione's friends?  
  
"I'm Oliver," he said, knowing he sounded very dumb.  
  
She grinned even more though, ignoring his words. "Oliver Wood, I love you so much!"  
  
"Wow, oh wow, umm.. thanks," he stuttered not knowing how to take it. What was he meant to say?   
  
He managed to keep a straight face for another five minutes of conversation with this 'Lavender' girl while she bumbled on about how much she loved him and how she was the biggest fan. And that she so sorry she hadn't introduced herself earlier as she knew she'd get along quite merrily with him. Oliver meanwhile stood there dumbfounded and realised he had begun to dream about Hermione again.  
  
"Oliver? Oliver?" Lavender said.  
  
"Yes?" he asked.  
  
"Are you listening?"  
  
"Sure I am. Hey Lavender, you said in your note you were sorry for being cold to me?" he asked.  
  
"Oh yes," she thought outloud. "This morning, I bumped into you and never apologised. I was just late for Potions and I didn't want Snape to take house points away from Gryffindor."   
  
"Oh okay," he said.   
  
"Well, do you want to date me?" Lavender said, alarming the off-guard Oliver. He liked her... sort of, but only as a friend.   
  
"Umm... Lavender, I don't like you that way. I barely know you."  
  
"FINE!" she cried loudly and stormed into the common room, tears brimming in her eyes.  
  
"Whoah," muttered Oliver as he returned back in the direction he'd come, wondering who Lavender actually was and wishing it had been Hermione who had sent the note. Then we wondered why he wished it had been Hermione.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Woohooo! I have a new story on the go. I think it might be my best ever (it's not so romance orientated, more of an adventure and something that delves into Hermione's character quite deeply). I have posted the first chapter up so you MUST MUST MUST go and check out 'The Saving of Harry' and leave me a review telling me what you think! Please! *Gets down knees and begs* 


	12. Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE  
  
  
Hermione didn't know what to think as she lay on her back staring up at the ceiling above.  
  
She began to count the number of marks on the ceiling that weren't originally there and wondered how they had got there. After awhile, she began to wonder why she was wondering such things.  
  
"I'm pathetic," she said, sitting up so she could see through the open window out to all of the pretty sparkling stars.  
  
"Why am I so depressed," she thought to herself. "This isn't like me, I shouldn't be so cut up over something. Hang on, what AM I cut up about? Oh dear, it's Oliver."  
  
As if their thoughts had been synchronised at that very second there was a knock on the door.   
  
Hermione heard Parvati squeal with delight as she and Lavender answered the door to find Oliver standing there, a rose in his hand.  
  
"Uhh hello," she heard his deep Scottish voice say.  
  
"Hi!" squeaked Lavender. "Do you want to come in?" She hadn't even considered the possibility of him being there to see somebody else.  
  
"Could I please see Hermione?" Oliver asked.  
  
Hermione felt her heart go thump, thump before missing a couple of beats and then she shyly stuck her head around the corner. "Oliver, what are you doing here?" she asked in a tone of voice that she immediately regretted.  
  
"Hello Hermione," he said, handing her the red rose. From behind him Hermione could see Lavender and Parvati giving her a nasty glare.  
  
"Hi," she replied flaty. Why am I being so cold, she thought.   
  
"Hi," he replied.   
  
"Hi," she said again. They stared at each other for a moment before both speaking at the same time.  
  
"Maybe you should go," said Hermione at the same time as Oliver said, "Could we talk?"  
  
Oliver coughed before looking down at the carpet. "Oh... okay, I'll uhh..." he turned to leave.  
  
"No wait," Hermione reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait," she repeated, beginning to feel the warmth from his body rise up her arm. She quickly dropped her hand again, letting it swing down by her side, feeling alone again.  
  
"Wait?" he said, also sensing the lonliness of his shoulder.  
  
"Yes, wait. Come on, let's talk then," without even thinking Hermione led him around to her bed where they both sat down, a fair distance between them and then she drew the curtains so at least what Parvati and Lavender tried to hear would be a bit muffled.  
  
Hermione looked anywhere but at Oliver while he sat there fiddling with a loose thread on the bed cover.  
  
"Well?" she asked. "What did you want to talk about?"  
  
"Why are you being so cold towards me?" Oliver asked straight forward and honestly.  
  
"I'm not," she exclaimed becoming defensive. She looked in his eyes and then gave in. "I'm sorry all right?"  
  
"No it's not all right," Oliver answered. "I want to know what I did wrong."  
  
Hermione didn't answer him. She began to stare at the rose as if something extraordinary would happen to it any second.   
  
"Herms?"  
  
Shivers went down her spine. His accent. His voice. The way he called her 'Herms'. It was all too much for her to take in.  
  
"Oliver, I'm sorry. I was wrong okay? I thought you were just a selfish, stupid git of a celebrity who was completely up themselves but I was wrong and you're not," Hermione raced out barely stopping for a breath. It took Oliver some time to process everything she had just said.  
  
"You thought I was selfish?" he repeated, looking at her with astonishment.  
  
She nodded guiltily. "But I was wrong."  
  
Oliver nodded, to show he understood.  
  
"Umm... why did you bring me this flower?" asked Hermione. "It's lovely. Thank you."  
  
"Because you are.... I am... well I think... I don't know... maybe we could... the flower was..." Oliver stammered, starting each sentence again.  
  
She giggled at his blushing. "Oliver, what is it?"  
  
"I think... maybe we..." he coughed. "Hermione, I really like you."  
  
She paused while those words sunk in. Did he mean he liked her? or did he mean he LIKED her?  
  
"I LIKE you," he added as if reading her mind.  
  
"Oh, wow..." she breathed. "Oliver, that's so... so... sudden."  
  
"I get it, I get it," he said, standing up and leaving a mark on the bed where he had been sitting. "You don't LIKE me obviously."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to say something but he kept going before she had the chance.  
  
"Ok, well we're leaving Hogwarts in two days any way so I'll probably never see you again. So well it was nice knowing you Hermione, you'll always be beautiful. Good bye," without wasting another second Oliver practically ran out of the room leaving a puzzled and confused Hermione to stare at where he had been sitting just a moment ago.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Oh No!!! What will she do now?? LoL sorry, just imagine that dramatic suspense music playing.. 'dah, dah DAH!!!' Um... I'm really sorry I can't update this story as much as I did for Letters and Wanna Be but I'm updating as much as I possibly can. Believe me! And by the way, Sarah... look forward to getting your letter. :o)  
  
And everyone else, please read The Saving of Harry! PLEASE! 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
  
  
"Oliver?" OLIVER!" Hermione called, as she ran down the stairs that connected the common room to the Girl's tower. As she ran past the fire, calling his name, people turned to stare at the strange girl who was almost crying now. She didn't know why or how but at one stage through all the trauma Hermione managed to have a weird thought of 'Gosh, I've been crying so much lately... I wonder if I'm due yet...' but her thoughts were madly interrupted by her goal of finding Oliver.  
  
"Herm?" someone, but she wasn't sure who, grabbed her by the arm but she didn't slow down. Instead she fought her way past the person and continued running.  
  
"OLIVER WOOD!"  
  
Oliver stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn't used to be being called by his full name, it was usually just 'Wood' and that had been since his time at Hogwarts!  
  
He slowly turned around, expecting the person who owned that voice to have a knife in their hand ready to kill him, that was how cold the voice was.  
  
But instead of finding the Grim Reaper, Oliver found a slightly bewildered Hermione Granger staring up at him, her big brown eyes like pools of liquid.  
  
"Herm..." he said quietly.  
  
"Oliver?"  
  
"Herm..." he said again.  
  
"Oliver?" she repeated.  
  
They both burst into immature fits of giggles before Hermione took a deep breath and gave him a huge hug.  
  
Feeling a little silly and very, very love-struck they stood there hugging each other for a few minutes before being rudely interrupted by a certain Gryffindor.  
  
"Lavender!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping back from Oliver in shock.  
  
"Hermione," Lavender acknowledged her with a nod of the head. "Hi Oliver," she added in a sugar-sweet and very high voice.  
  
"Uh hi," he replied.  
  
The three of them stood there looking a bit uncomfortable before Lavender began to speak, an icy-cold tone in her voice.  
  
"Well, Oliver... now I know why you didn't want to date me," she began, talking to Oliver yet glaring at Hermione. "It's because of HER. I don't know what you see in her Oliver, she's nothing but a stupid brain who probably did a love spell on you any way just to live out her little girl fantasy!"  
  
'Little girl fantasy?' Hermione thought to herself. 'Sounds more like you.' But she didn't say it out loud.  
  
"Lavender, maybe you should go," suggested Oliver hopefully.  
  
Without another word and only one last glare, Lavender turned in a huff and walked away.   
  
Her little confrontation had sort of ruined the perfect moment. Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. How could she have noticed before that Lavender was wrapped in Oliver? Obviously because the whole school now seemed to be.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Short chapter, I know. I'm sorry. I had to rush it a bit and it showed. I won't be able to update as regularly as 'LFH' and 'WBWYA' because they were short letters and I was able to write them 4 at a time but this is a bit trickier plus I am extremely busy right now. Thanks for all the great reviews, comments and e-mails. It has also been great to be able to chat with a bunch of you on MSN. Feel free to add me to your list. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Hi guys, I am so sorry I haven't updated this story for so long, I just feel it has totally died. Tell me if you want me to keep going with it but until I hear from you, I don't know if I will end up continuing it. I have been really busy writing my two other new fics called The Saving of Harry and Three Little Words.  
I seriously think you would like 'Three Little Words' more than this as it is way better written, more imaginative than this and the chapters are HEAPS longer. It is an Oliver/Hermione story too so I'm pretty sure you should check it out.  
Until then, this is my last chapter on this story for the time being...  
  
  
  
Hermione avoided Lavender for a little while though it wasn't hard as she was never in any classes. Hermione did her best to concentrate but her mind always seemed to wander. It showed too, her grades were dropping slightly.  
  
Regardless of the feelings Lavender obviously had for Oliver, Hermione still continued to see him. But each time, she felt more and more guilty and more and more sorry for Lavender even if she always was a nasty cow to her.  
  
"Oliver," Hermione said one evening as they sat out under the stars. It was the last night he would be spending at Hogwarts before he had to return to Puddlemere for proper training and games. They hadn't decided where this relationship was heading so both were a little uncomfortable.  
  
They sat next to each other on an outside bench, just staring up at the stars. Feeling a little cold, Hermione snuggled closer to Oliver and he wrapped his arm around her.  
  
How could she have been so lucky? Here she was sitting with the best looking guy she'd ever seen and he liked her for her. He liked her for being Hermione, around him she didn't have to pretend.  
  
"Yeah?" Oliver looked down at the beautiful girl in his arms. He didn't want to let her go. He really didn't.   
  
"You leave tomorrow," she pointed out.  
  
He nodded. "Yeah..."  
  
"What are we going to do about... us?" she asked, her voice wavering.  
  
"I don't know," Oliver replied honestly. "I don't want to be away from you Herms... I've never had this sort of connection with anyone before."  
  
"I know," she said glumly. "Maybe we could write to each other," she added although she knew that was a hopeless suggestion. Writing was no where near good enough and they both knew it.  
  
A bird flew out of a nearby bush and they watched it disappear into the night sky.   
  
No more was said that evening. The words hurt too much.  
  
  
  
  
The next day, Hermione woke up early but tired from a sleepless night. How could she have let a guy get to her so much? That was so unlike her. For ages, the most important people in her life had been Ron and Harry but now... now it was different. Struggling to put her skirt on, Hermione tip-toed down the stairs, being especially careful when she went past Lavender's bed. Lavender hadn't given her any more trouble since the confrontation but Hermione was playing it safe.  
  
She entered the common room to find a bunch of red roses by the coffee table. They were the same type of roses Oliver had given her when he first admitted his feelings... though this time there wasn't just one, there were at least two-dozen.  
  
"Oliver," she breathed quietly knowing they were from him.  
  
Racing over to the coffee table and grabbing the note attached she felt tears in her eyes.  
  
  
Dear Hermione,   
I'm sorry we have to end like this. I wanted to say goodbye but I couldn't bring myself to. After the motivation talk today, I'll be leaving straight away and probably won't get a chance to see you. I just want to say that you're the most special and fascinating woman I have ever met and I never wanted to let you go. Unfortunately, long distance relationships just don't work and I wish there was another way.   
Love you always,  
Oliver  
  
  
She put the note down after smelling the faint scent of his cologne on it and picked up the roses. She had to let him go. She just had to. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
  
  
To say Hermione was not looking forward to the motivational talk was the understatement of the year. She was dreading it, loathing the thought of it, hating it with every fibre in her body.  
  
But there was no way she could stop time. She was momentarily distracted by Madam Hooch who asked to speak to her briefly in the morning but then the afternoon came and Harry and Ron dragged her out of the common room and into the Library (strange as it may sound) and sat her down with all of the other Seventh Years.  
  
At first Hermione avoided scanning the room for Oliver. She just wanted him to disappear off the face of the planet. Or even better, to have all the memories of him erased from her mind. Why did it have to end? Why?  
  
But when he heard him start talking, she had to look up, it was like she was drawn to his voice. The accent and deepness of it. It put her in a trance and for a moment, all that she could hear and see was him.  
  
She wasn't listening to the actual words he was saying, he could have been describing how it felt to pat a gorilla for all she knew... and cared. All that mattered was that he was standing there, only ten metres in front of her and she couldn't even touch him.  
  
Their eyes locked for a moment. Both quickly looked away.   
  
Ron rested a hand on Hermione's arm. He knew she was hurting.  
  
The talk seemed to go very quickly. After what seemed like five minutes, they were all ushered out of the library and back to their respective common rooms. Hermione pushed her way through the crowds, trying to get past. The last thing Oliver saw of Hermione was the back of her head and the long brown hair that he'd loved the scent of, the feel of and how he could get lost forever with her. He turned back towards the Puddlemere group who were ready to go back to the Head Quarters. It had been a very long week and it was just about to get longer.  
  
"Wood," said a familiar voice. He spun around at the sound of his name and found himself standing right in front of Madam Hooch, his old flying instructor.  
  
"Professor," he exclaimed surprised to see her.  
  
"Hello," she replied. "Don't even think about leaving yet," she said. "Come with me."  
  
Without another word, she mysteriously turned around and without thinking, Oliver followed her all the way up to the astrology tower.  
  
They ran up the stone steps to the top of the astrology tower. They passed numerous windows, all looking out to the Quidditch Pitch that he'd been so fond of during his school years.  
  
Finally, out of breath, Madam Hooch led him down a corridor to a place he'd never seen before.  
  
"Welcome to my office," she said.  
  
"Your office?" asked a disbelieving Oliver. "You're office was never here."  
  
"No," agreed Madam Hooch. "But it is now," and that's all she said.   
  
Oliver slowly nodded. "Okay then..."  
  
"Wood, something has come to my attention."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I've watched you fly for many many years. From when you were a first year to now, in your professional days," she said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And that means I have been made aware of your style... so well infact, that you might as well be my son."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oliver," she said. It was a shock to hear her call him by his first name instead of simply 'Wood'. "Oliver, something is bothering you and it has for a long time hasn't it? I come to a lot of your Quidditch games, whether you knew it or not and I can TELL something has been bothering you for the last couple of months."  
  
Oliver opened his mouth to protest but she shushed him. "No, I KNOW something is up."  
  
He gave up and looked at his hands. Leaning against the stone wall he stared out at the big wide skies.  
  
"You know you can trust me," said Madam Hooch. "I'm a friend more than a teacher and I look upon you as a friend now Wood. You can talk to me."  
  
He nodded and slowly opened his mouth. She deserved to know. He deserved to tell somebody. He slowly took a deep breath and began to speak. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen  
  
  
"Hermione," said a whiney voice in her left ear. "I heard Oliver dumped you. Oh you poor, poor thing!" It was Lavender, speaking very very sarcastically.  
  
"Lavender go away," replied Hermione quietly, definetly not in the mood for a silly fight.  
  
"Ha," she continued anyway, following her up the stairs to the bedroom. "I knew he would. I mean you're just a stupid mudblood. You don't deserve to be loved. Not by anybody. And especially not by Oliv-"  
  
Lavender didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. She was too busy clutching her eye from the humungous punch Hermione had just thrown at her.  
  
"I said Go Away," Hermione said coldly, rubbing her fist. She turned her back to Lavender and went to find a book to read.  
  
"Cow," Lavender muttered under her breath although both girls knew that she wouldn't be giving Hermione any trouble from now on. She was scared.  
  
  
  
  
"You want to be loved?" Madam Hooch exclaimed, sort of surprised but sort of not.  
  
Oliver nodded his head miserably. "Pathetic isn't it?"  
  
"No, no, not at all!" she replied. "Love is very important to everyone. You can't be expected to live a happy life without love."  
  
"I know, but I've tried telling myself otherwise," he explained. He might as well just finish the whole story now. "Madam Hooch, I fell in love while I was here at Hogwarts but because of my dumb career I could never be with her."  
  
"Why should a career stop you from loving?"  
  
"I don't know, I just don't know but it has."  
  
"Oliver, let me tell you a little story..." Madam Hooch sat down on her desk and gave a small smile. It was one of the few times she'd ever been sensitive towards Oliver so he watched her and listened carefully.  
  
"Oliver, when I was very young... about your age infact, I thought I was in love with a boy. I believe to this very day, I was in love with him, maybe I still am. Anyway, he was picked to be on a big Quidditch team. The Irish Igglers actually, they don't exist any more. My boyfriend and I had both been very fond of Quidditch, sometimes it got a bit competitive too. Well what happened was he chose his career over me and though we tried to keep in touch, it just didn't work. And you know what happened? The Igglers Club disbanded about ten years later, just went downhill completely. I had lost hope and moved away... to Hogwarts to be a teacher and I tried to track him down but couldn't. Oliver, the point I'm making is... I regret to this very day letting him go."  
  
He nodded. Oliver knew what he had to do.  
  
"Madam Hooch, thank you," he said before slipping out of the room to do some final talking. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen  
  
  
Hermione waited by her bed. Something in her intuition told her he'd be coming back for her soon. Just something told her that. Sure enough, about five minutes later, there was a loud knock on the door.  
  
Someone answered it.  
  
"Lavender... what happened to your eye?" asked that deep, Scottish voice.  
  
"Don't ask," grumbled Lavender. "She's over there," she added. She'd lost. Now she knew it.  
  
Oliver ignored the glare he received from Parvati and made his way over to Hermione's bed.  
  
"Hermione?" he said, slowly opening a crack in the curtain.  
  
"OLIVER!" cried Hermione, delirious with joy. She wrapped her arms around his neck.  
  
"What? What?" he laughed, hugging her back.  
  
"I knew it," she cried, tears streaming down her face. They barely heard Lavender and Parvati storm out of the room, they just hugged and kissed and whispered stupid little things to each other.  
  
"I'm staying," Oliver said in her ear.  
  
"I know," Hermione replied.  
  
"I'm going to wait for you to graduate and then we're going to live happily ever after," he breathed.  
  
"I know," Hermione replied again.  
  
"How did you know?" he asked.  
  
"Let's just say a certain flying instructor gave me a talking this morning," Hermione answered grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire Cat.  
  
Oliver smiled to himself. Madam Hooch knew more than he thought she knew.   
  
"Thank you," he said in his head. "Thank you for making me the luckiest man alive."  
  
Hermione also did a bit of personal reflecting. "At last somebody out there loves me," she told herself.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Gosh, it's taken awhile but this story finally came together. Woohoooooo! Thanks for all of the words of encouragement, without them I would never have bothered ending the fic. Though the story isn't what I'd call quality, at least we saw our favourite couple together in the end eh? 


End file.
